


Of Tulips, Confrontation and Confessions

by BlackandBlueMagpie



Series: Wonderful One plus One [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Warning for mention of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 03:17:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackandBlueMagpie/pseuds/BlackandBlueMagpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Courfeyrac makes a mistake, Combeferre has ice cream and Grantaire takes things into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Tulips, Confrontation and Confessions

Jehan joins Les Amis a week later, having poured over the leaflets and the website and attended two more meetings. He gets to know each member individually; and even meets the elusive Marius, and Jehan is pretty sure he’s never seen a man more head over heels. Enjolras soon warms to him, giving him the task of writing a new leaflet for them – something Jehan now spends his time in the café doing as Courf gives suggestions.   
The pair are walking in the park, Jehan having helped Courf pack up after the late Sunday rush. The flowers are just starting to bloom, tulips providing bursts of colour between newly green bushes and white daisies. Jehan has one balanced on his hat now, Courf having rescued it from being trampled into the path. They brush occasionally and every time they giggle until eventually Courf takes Jehans’ hand in his own.   
They pause a while by a large pond, fountain spraying water high into the sky and Jehan points at the toy boats skimming along the surface. Courf laughs as two crash into each other and Jehan scolds him teasingly. They smile at each other for a moment, Courfs hazel eyes are soft behind his glasses and Jehan feels his fingers brush against his cheek. The lips gently pressing his seem almost uncertain at first, but gain confidence when he goes up on tiptoes to kiss Courf more easily. Courfs’ cheek is rough with stubble as Jehan pushes his fingers toward his thick waves, and in doing so knocks Courfs glasses. Courf pulls back momentarily, straightening them with a laugh. Their fingers are still looped, Jehans free hand on the nape of Courfs neck, while Courfs’ arm has found its way around his waist, fingers clutching at fabric.   
It takes a moment, between smiles and flushed cheeks and shaky breaths, but Courfs’ eyes harden slightly. His brows furrow together ever so slightly and he pulls away to check his watch.  
“I- I have to go.”  
“Oh. Yeah, right.” Jehan’s still blushing, willing the pink to sink back beneath his skin. “I’ll be in tomorrow.” He pauses momentarily to dig in his satchel, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper “I forgot to give you this. It’s my number…” The blush defiantly isn’t vanishing now. “You know, if you had any ideas about the leaflet or… Anything.”   
Courf takes it, reading it over as he nods.  
“Thanks. I’ll um; I’ll text you or something.” They say their goodbyes with kisses on cheeks and Jehan watches Courf hurry off with a stupid smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. He brings his fingers up to brush them along his lips where he can still feel the press of Courfs own.  
He stays in the park for a long time people watching, replaying the moment over again until he fears he’s not doing it justice any more. It’s then he gets up, stretching out his cramped legs to walk home.  
~~~  
Combeferre is making dinner when the knock comes, perfect timing as he needs to take everything off the stove. When he makes it to the door, hoping the pasta can hold off for just a couple more seconds, he finds Courfeyrac, looking uncharacteristically flustered. He reaches the stove just before the pasta boils over, telling Courf to sit as he deals with everything else, divvying up the pasta between them now he has the guest.  
"So. You obviously didn't come here for company."  
Courf pushes pasta around his plate, lying down on his left arm and refusing to look up at Combeferre who starts eating anyway. There is silence between them , broken only by the squeaking of forks on china.  
"I think I messed everything up." Courf says finally, pushing his hand through his hair and messing it up further so it sticks up on one side. Combeferre lays down his fork.  
"What did you do."   
"Nothing! Well... Jehan and I kissed."  
"Surely that's a good thing. I assume he didn't slap you?"  
"No, I know. But I just... I don't know what happened. It felt so right and we were having so much fun then the kiss happened and I just freaked out about it."  
"You've never done that before..." Courf doesn't reply, simply laying his cheek back on his arm. Combeferre sighs "Do you think that, maybe, it's because this means more to you?" A small glance up "You've not had this with someone before, not proper... Feelings about them - don't deny it, you never get Mooney over anyone. I think maybe it was just a bit of a surprise to you that you did feel that way, and well, that scared you."  
"I-I guess so..."  
"Well, you've never brought anyone else to a meeting before. I might be wrong, but that's my observation."  
Courf nods, chewing his lip.  
"Thanks."  
“Whatever you decide to do you’ll have talk to him, you do realise that.” Combeferre murmurs after a moment.   
“I will.”   
They spend the rest of the evening watching a film, Courf’s sure Combeferre has work to do – he always does – but for tonight he’s content to loosen his tie and drape his arm over the back of the sofa, just to let Courf forget everything for a while. He’s sure Ferre notices him taking out the note with Jehan’s phone number, laying it beside him, shoving it back in his pocket, taking out his phone, entering it in then deleting everything, several times in sequence but if he does he’s polite enough not to mention it.   
He calls in sick to work the next day, spending most of the day staring at the poem on his bedside table, until he finally pushes it down. He takes his phone out no less than 10 times before it ends up being thrown across the room.  
~~~  
“Where the hell have you been?!” Jehan hurried up to the counter as he saw Courf trying to slip into the back room. “You've not been in all week!”  
“I was… Ill.” Courf tried  
“That’s why I gave you my number. I was worried sick.”  
“Well you shouldn't have been.” Courf looks thoroughly awkward “It wasn't anything of your concern.” Jehan blinked in surprise, a seeming sudden realisation flashing through his eyes.  
“I thought the kiss meant something to you. If it didn’t you shouldn’t have made it seem like you liked me! I would have been happy being your friend but you had to go and make it something else. For what? Just some kind of fling?!”  
“It wasn’t like that. I just-“  
“Don’t lie to me. Please.” Jehan runs a hand over his face “I-I’ll see you around.” With that he’s pushing his way past an older couple and a student still in their school uniform. He doesn’t notice Grantaire until he crashes into him, sending both staggering back.  
“Hey! Do you mind?!” Grantaire mutters, rubbing his chest. He’s annoyed at first, if not mainly because the hangover is still fresh in his mind and being knocked about hasn’t helped a bit. He doesn’t have to chance to be annoyed when he looks up to find Jehan, with a look he knows from the mirror pressing his lips together and furrowing his brow. “Jehan?! Hey what’s wrong?”  
“It’s nothing. Sorry I- I crashed into you, I was just leaving and- Well-“  
“No. No you’re not. Come on, you’ve listened to me enough I can listen to you too.” They end up back at Grantaires’, Jehan not having said a word until they make it back. He’s staring absentmindedly around the room, eyes scanning over but not really seeing the various sketches plastered to the walls. Grantaire holds out a glass of whiskey and leads him to the sofa, clearing his sketchbook and bag as he goes.   
“There must be something wrong.”  
“Have Courfeyrac been ill this week?” Jehan asks suddenly.  
“No… Why?”  
“He said he was. He’s been avoiding me since Saturday. Since… We kissed.” He still doesn’t look around; cupping his drink closely like it’s the answer to all his problems that might slip away “I know this might sounds stupid to a cynic, saying that I thought we could… Well. And I know I’m a romantic but I also know life isn’t ideal. That’s why I am a romantic because I know that so well. But I just thought this time maybe… Maybe something could go right. I liked him and- I thought he felt the same way about me.” The words come out in a rush and Grantaires’ brain struggles to process them quick enough. Jehan takes a mouthful of whiskey and pulls a face.   
“I don’t- It doesn’t seem like Courf to invite you to a meeting and then not be serious about you.”   
“Do you ever want to just escape?” Jehan’s continuing as if Grantaire never spoke “Just forget about it all and not have to think about home or people or life.” He looks at Grantaire now, eyes sad and unfocused “Do you want to forget?”   
Grantaire takes a moment to realise Jehan’s leaning into him, so close he can feel his breath on his cheek. He places a hand against Jehan’s lips, then moves it to cup his cheek.  
“If you kiss me now, you’ll regret it.” Jehan stares at him for a moment in some sort of sad recognition, as if seeing a past event and nods against his palm.   
“You drink to escape. I… I lost my virginity at 15 because there were things I wanted to escape. I regretted that for a long time because all it meant was that I pushed it out of my head for a little while longer then it came back worse than before. Have you ever…” His hand reaches up to take Grantaire’s wrist and the words don’t need to be spoken. Grantaire looks down at the fingers curled around skin paled with scars. “I used to. Took showers that were too hot because it helped to feel the needles. Things aren’t so bad any more though. You get rough patches but I’m getting better. This isn’t, it’s nothing. I just got too involved with something that didn’t mean anything.”  
“I think you’re wrong.” Grantaire hears himself saying, and he takes Jehan’s hand in his own, clasping at the delicate fingers “Let me talk to Courf. He’s not been in a relationship for a while, I think he’s just scared but he likes you Jehan, he does. He’s not been like this before. You asked if he’d been ill and no he’s not been sick but he’s not been himself. Some things are pipe dreams, I know, but this… I don’t think it is.”  
“He should have said something.”  
“A lot of people should have said a lot of things. But fear is an unfortunate winner in such situations.” Grantaire gives a sad smile   
“You… You really think so?” Jehan doesn’t let himself get hopeful, but it’s there in the shining of eyes and curling of lips.  
“I know so. Trust me.” Grantaire isn’t sure where the courage is coming from, but in that instant he’s so certain of the truth he’d place a lot on his success when he gets his hands of Courfeyrac.  
“Well, at least something good would have come out of this anyway.”  
“What’s that?”  
“I got to meet you.”

~~~

Wherever he'd got the confidence from while he was talking to Jehan, Grantaire wished he had it now.  
Well, he was sure Courfeyrac felt something for Jehan, he just wasn't sure if he'd ever admit it. He could sympathise, but at the same time he'd rather see the two get together than have Courf mope around because he was too scared.   
_Like you._  
He swatted his ears angrily at the thought, as though knocking away an annoying fly.  
It was nothing like that. The pair loved each other, or something, they'd be good for each other.  
Now if only he could convince Courf.   
When Courf opens the door he looks tired, his jawline rough and scratchy and eyes a little duller than usual, thouh he attempts a wide grin.  
"Grantaire, what are you doing here?" Grantaire makes his way into the flat, almost as familiar as his own. "Need a place to stay."  
"Looks like you've been sleeping on the couch more than me." The sofa is littered with Courfs pillow and quilt, TV on some noncensical channel, various cups and plates and magazines completing the scene "I've come to talk some sense into you."  
"Why's that?"  
"Please don't play dumb with me, I'm not really in the mood." He turns to face the man leaning at the wall. "Listen Courf, I'm not saying you're a complete fool but you're definatly kind of an idiot. Even if I'm not one to talk." He adds at Courfs face "My point is you've got a great guy sitting around and he _likes_ you. Really. So why are you so scared?"  
A silence, and Courf rubs the heel of his hand over his face.  
"I'm just- I'll mess it up."  
"Really? How do you know."  
"Because I've never been in a relationship and I'll hurt him. I can't do that."  
"You're already hurting him. Are you blind, Courf you're throwing away and opportunity some of us would kill to have. And it's making me want to punch you because you're both sitting around moping and you'll lose him if you don't do something. And I don't want to see that happen to either of you."  
Courf seems to turn it over in his mind, chewing on his lips. Grantaire can see his eyes shifting, brow furrowing minutely. Grantaire gives him a minute, making them both coffee, black with three sugars for Courf. Passing it across seems to wake Courf up enough for him to murmur his thanks and as they stand there sipping drinks he finally admits:  
"I don't know what to say."  
"Say what you feel. Trust me, it'll come to you."  
A nod, Courf presses his lips together.  
"I think I'm going to need your help."

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea that Jehan and Grantaire become quite close.  
> Also that Combeferre is the friend that's good at listening and is rather too in tune with people, and has a good supply of ice cream.


End file.
